2024 PMH Health Professions Creative Writing and Art Contest Awards Ceremony

May 03, 2024

Information

5/2/2024

2024 PMH Health Professions Creative Writing and Art Contest Awards Ceremony

Sponsored by the Program for Humanities in Medicine and the Marguerite Rush Lerner Fund

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00:00We have to shrink that.
00:03My name is Anna Reisman.
00:04I'm the director of the Program
00:05for Humanities and Medicine,
00:06and I'm thrilled that you guys are all here.
00:09We have some people on Zoom,
00:11and it's been a great contest.
00:14I'll tell you a little bit about the contest,
00:16and then we'll just jump
00:17right into the presentation.
00:18So this began about 25 years ago
00:21as a prose and poetry contest.
00:24That was just for Yale medical students.
00:26And a couple years ago we
00:28added the art category.
00:29And then we also added,
00:31we welcomed submissions from all
00:33Yale health profession students.
00:36The medical student winners received
00:39the Marguerite Rush Lerner Award,
00:41and Marguerite Lerner was a member
00:43of the Yale dermatology Department.
00:45She authored several children's books.
00:47She was deeply involved in music and the
00:49learners were the parents of four sons,
00:51of whom two are Y as in graduates.
00:54The award was established in
00:56her honor by her loving family.
00:58Winners who are part of the PA Nursing and
01:02MPH programs receive an award called the
01:05Program for Humanities and Medicine Award.
01:08This year we had across the three
01:10categories close to 100 submissions,
01:12and I want to just thank the judges
01:15who are all mixed together on my list
01:18here for the different categories
01:19ABBA Black and Merritt, Terry Degradi,
01:22Sarah Cross, Lawrence Gutterman,
01:23Melissa Graff, Randy Hunter Epstein,
01:25Kenneth Morford, Sharon Ostfeld,
01:27Johns, Vinnie Quaglarello,
01:29Lisa Sanders, Nora Segar,
01:31Elizabeth Marhofer, Rita Rienzo,
01:33Sharon Chikigian, and Cynthia McNamara.
01:36So thank you to all of the judges for
01:38looking at all of those poems, stories,
01:40essays and looking at all the art.
01:43And I also want to thank Karen,
01:46hiding in the back,
01:47who does everything behind the
01:49scenes especially for this contest.
01:51And believe me,
01:52there's a lot when you have 98 or 100
01:55submissions. So thank you, Karen.
01:58And
01:59the way that we'll do this
01:59today is I'm going to go back and
02:02forth for the most part from we'll
02:05start with a a poetry winner,
02:07we'll go to a prose winner.
02:08And in the middle I'm going to cluster all
02:11the art 'cause we have the art on on slides.
02:14And you can also see not originals
02:18but printouts of the art over there.
02:20We have one original.
02:21So when that person is presenting,
02:23she will show you her original,
02:24which almost fits in her pocket.
02:27OK, so shall we start with poetry?
02:31First first place poetry winner
02:34who is Terry Mottragi. Mottragi.
02:38OK, And Terry is in the class
02:41of Yale School of Nursing,
02:43class of 2026,
02:44and her first place poem
02:47is called Caretaker Welcome
03:01Caretaker. We drive out to the desert,
03:04sunroof open,
03:06stars spilling sunburnt and thirsty,
03:08and a dented minivan crawling 6
03:11hours down the California coast.
03:13As the dust sprawls where
03:15nothing green can breathe,
03:17I marvel at the strange magenta blooms
03:19that sprout in spite of it all.
03:21When we reach the old motel,
03:23fresh white paint rolled across its walls,
03:26a Lye I zip my snug black floral dress
03:29weaved with thin strands of gold,
03:31and paint my lips a dusty rose.
03:34Today is my 30th birthday before me.
03:36On the splintered pine table is a pastel
03:39pink cake with rings of ombre swirls,
03:42delicate like water flower.
03:44Sorry, watercolor.
03:46I ordered it for myself two weeks
03:48ago from the beloved bakery Wisteria,
03:51bellowing from atop the shop door.
03:54Maybe it was good sense,
03:55or just the past retching again,
03:58but I knew this is true.
03:59While I spend most days in hospitals,
04:02Forest Green scrubs and bright white
04:05sneakers collecting blood into
04:06tubes dripping blood into veins,
04:09swaddling wrinkly newborns and guiding
04:11their wandering tongues to warm milk.
04:13Proud reassurances to timid parents Today,
04:17my birthday in the desert.
04:19Nobody at this table would pause to care.
04:21For me this reckoning is merciless
04:24tangles of motherhood, marriage,
04:26martyrdom and melancholia.
04:28Hospital or home.
04:30It is my job to boil pots of soup so
04:33bellies do not Pierce with hunger.
04:35To put cool clothes to warm
04:37foreheads so fevers do not blister.
04:39To spoon oatmeal into three chipped
04:42bowls so clever minds do not forget
04:44fractions to empty my breasts until
04:46they're chafed cherry red so my baby
04:48screams do not Pierce the night.
04:50And nurses. Work is never finished.
04:53Sugar spills and cake contorts
04:55in the hot sun.
04:56Indeed,
04:57there were not thoughtful
04:58candles hidden in pockets,
04:59so I pull some from my purse prepared
05:02and bounce my round baby on my hip.
05:04As I set them ablaze.
05:06I watched their flames rejoice
05:08amongst A4 four voiced chorus,
05:10too sour and sweaty to fake cheer.
05:13I wince softly pushed the blade
05:16through rings of icing and dutifully
05:19passed slivers of sweetness.
05:21Thank you.
05:30And as you finish,
05:32if you go to the back,
05:32Karen will give you a certificate that
05:36you can frame and put on your wall.
05:39OK. Thank you so much, Terry.
05:41Our next reader will be Courtney
05:44Hart and Courtney is the 1st place
05:47Pros winner for a piece called
05:50These Small Things and she is
05:52also a Yale School of Nursing
05:55student class of 2025. Courtney
06:07hi. Before I start I just want to say a quick
06:11thank you to my parents for
06:13allowing me to share this story.
06:15It is 1988 and I am three iPad into my
06:19parents room and climb up onto big bed.
06:21It used to feel like a life raft
06:23in the ocean with the two centers
06:25of my universe sleeping within it.
06:27My father is there now,
06:28a soft safe mountain.
06:30I starfish across his belly
06:32and ask why he is crying.
06:34I find out in adulthood that I said,
06:36is it because you're sad about Brennan?
06:38My father has told me that he
06:39was shocked by the question,
06:41though he doesn't say whether it's
06:42because he was surprised at my intuition
06:44or because he was suddenly staggering,
06:46jolted off balance as I sweetly asked him to
06:49account for the reason behind his weeping.
06:51I think, though,
06:52that perhaps he shouldn't have
06:53been startled by my directness.
06:55Either way,
06:55what 3 year old is going to mince wards
06:58when piercing together why her baby
07:00brother has died before he even lived?
07:03I was with my mother when she
07:04discovered that my brother's heart
07:06had stopped on his due date.
07:07Until then, she'd had a healthy,
07:09uncomplicated pregnancy.
07:09A true not in the umbilical cord
07:12we discovered later was what
07:14caused Brennan's death.
07:15I was ushered out to the
07:17receptionist desk to draw,
07:18blissfully unaware of my mother's
07:20emotional wreckage contained by
07:22the door behind me as she waited
07:24for my father to come.
07:25I imagine that the receptionist
07:26did the best she could with me
07:28in an office made for adults.
07:30I wonder if they have crayons by now,
07:32maybe just a few in primary colors,
07:34paper peeling off,
07:35and a well worn coloring book
07:37for times like these.
07:39When my brother was born on December
07:415th at Yale New Haven Hospital,
07:42he was no less beautiful
07:44than had he been living.
07:45If you ask her,
07:46my mother will tell you about
07:47the kindness of the nurses,
07:48the kindness of her doctor.
07:50She has said that you will remember
07:52this kindness for the rest of her life.
07:54I picture them treating her like
07:55some delicate hothouse flower.
07:57Gloved hands,
07:58gentle voices subdued.
07:59They must have delicately swaddled my
08:01brother snug the knit hat onto his soft head.
08:04They press his feet onto an
08:05ink pad for footprints.
08:07They took pictures gingerly wrapping
08:08a knitted baby blanket around him.
08:10My mother and father were able
08:12to keep running with them until
08:13they felt ready to say goodbye.
08:15If any parent is ever ready for that moment,
08:17the sharp cleaving into life
08:19before and life after.
08:21Why I asked my mom and my dad.
08:23Sometimes these things just happen,
08:25sweetheart.
08:25I stayed with my Uncle John during
08:28my brother's funeral service.
08:29We went for ice cream.
08:30I've been told it is 2019 and I am a
08:34new doula supporting my 6th family.
08:36The mother has become beloved to me.
08:38She has fielded a few rough
08:40challenges during her pregnancy
08:41with Astounding Grace,
08:42and we've bonded over our
08:43shared love of obsessing over
08:44music harmonies.
08:45Heaven charitably howled with laughter
08:47at the baby naming proclivities
08:50of our fellow New Yorkers.
08:51On her baby's birthday,
08:52her daughter emerges into the world crying
08:55lustily rosy and flushed with breath.
08:57It is an almost an afterthought when
08:59the obstetrician mentions the true
09:00knot in the cord and we marvel at its
09:02twist while she assures my beloved
09:04client that it did not affect her
09:06baby in the slightest after all.
09:07Just look at her, she says.
09:09The knot is breathtaking
09:11and terrifying to behold.
09:13After I make sure that the photos
09:14and videos are air dropped,
09:15after I embrace my client
09:17tightly before tucking her in,
09:18after I press my forehead against the
09:20baby's swaddled belly for one whispered
09:22moment of gratitude and feverish relief,
09:24I make it all the way to the
09:26sidewalk of 1st Ave. Ave.
09:27before the violent, heaving sobs come.
09:31It is an October evening in 2022,
09:33and I'm writing my application
09:35essay from midwifery school.
09:36Why do you want to be a midwife?
09:37Yale asks me,
09:39ameliorating health disparities.
09:40I write, walking alongside families
09:42through a beautiful life transition.
09:43Reproductive justice,
09:45trauma, informed care.
09:46These are all words that I use in my essay.
09:49I don't say a word about my brother.
09:51It is 2024,
09:52and it's my fifth clinical shift as
09:54a midwifery student on the same unit
09:56where my parents had those precious
09:58few golden hours with my brother.
09:59I feel clumsy,
10:01slow,
10:01acutely self aware of my inexperience.
10:04Some days it feels like my brain
10:06is expanding at lightspeed,
10:07making connections between what
10:08I'm learning in the classroom
10:10and what I'm seeing on the floor.
10:12And other days it feels as even as
10:14if even the most basic information
10:16is like water through a sieve.
10:18I've begun, perhaps, to find my footing.
10:20I've learned that I should always
10:21keep a spare pair of sterile gloves,
10:22size 6, for my small hands in my pocket,
10:24just in case I feel more comfortable
10:27taking an H&amp;P and triage.
10:29I know now that I should simply
10:30embrace that cervical exams will
10:32feel confounding for quite a
10:33bit longer on this fifth shift.
10:35It is 4:54 AM and I'm cloaked in
10:38a scratchy hospital blanket on the
10:39plastic couch in the provider's lounge,
10:41foolishly denying myself sleep
10:43while pouring over treatment
10:44algorithms for anemia and pregnancy.
10:46When my phone rings about the
10:48intrauterine fetal demise in Room 472,
10:51there's this thing that I do to
10:52ground myself in a hospital room if
10:54I'm in danger of losing composure.
10:56I dig my nails into the palm of my left hand,
10:58and it delivers just enough
11:00muted discomfort to restore me
11:02to temporary equilibrium,
11:03occupying my mind elsewhere
11:05from my own sadness.
11:06I do this now as I stand
11:08beside our patient's bed,
11:09bearing silent witness to her
11:11primal screaming to the sobs
11:13racking her tensing body.
11:14We are deferential to her suffering and our
11:17hushed tones and our cautious movements.
11:20Afterward,
11:20our patient lies limply,
11:21her thick hair tangled,
11:23chipped purple Polish on her toes,
11:25a streak of blood drying on her right thigh.
11:28She is unspeaking, staring distantly
11:29into the furthest corner of the room,
11:32adrift in her own sea of thoughts,
11:33while around her are volleying questions.
11:36Please, for certainty,
11:37though we can offer little prayers
11:39for answers where we can give none.
11:41Her husband chokes out the question.
11:43Sometimes these things just happen, I hear.
11:46I take her hand as she gazes into my eyes.
11:49Hers contain oceans of pain.
11:53She does not want to hold her baby.
11:55It's her right,
11:56I insist silently to myself.
11:57It's her choice.
11:58Still, it feels like frantic wings
12:01beating a panicky bird trapped
12:02in the rib cage of my chest.
12:04It feels like precious gold in time,
12:06slipping away.
12:07Her baby is beautiful,
12:09with a thick cap of glossy black hair.
12:12I take care to support his soft
12:15head as I snug the knit hat onto
12:18it and delicately swaddle him.
12:20We press his feet onto the ink pad.
12:22We take pictures,
12:23tenderly wrapping a knitted
12:25baby blanket around him.
12:26I cradle his soft weight as I whisper A
12:29wish to him for nothing but beautiful.
12:31Endless sky.
12:32These small things at least I can do.
12:35Thank
12:48you so much, Courtney.
12:50I will invite our second place.
12:53We have a tie for second place in poetry.
12:56And I will invite first Fabrizio
12:59Darby from Yale School of Medicine,
13:01class of 2027, to read his poem called Yad.
13:13Yeah,
13:15the smell of fried chicken told me
13:17that yad was a euphemism forever.
13:19You end up That house is static,
13:21but home is ever changing,
13:22ever ebbing like the traffic on a highway.
13:25The rice and peas told me that no
13:27matter what, Jamaica is with me,
13:29as I am with her, and if I close
13:31my eyes and listen closely enough,
13:32this clamoring concrete conurbation
13:34sounded like the kasha covered flora that
13:37hummed me to sleep on a Sunday afternoon.
13:40The ackee and saltfish shouted wagwan
13:42and reminded me that the morning
13:44breakfast was more than just a meal,
13:47but a series of memorable moments
13:48in time that would define my life.
13:50My perspectives shape my dreams.
13:53The Curry chicken made a punching
13:55bag of my tongue,
13:56taunting me to reclaim MyHeritage
13:58and stop holding back the bless
14:00up brewing behind my lips every
14:02time I'm about to say thank you.
14:04It yanked my tonsils,
14:05pierced my U villa like a swallowtail.
14:08As if to say you can take a
14:10Hummingbird out of the forest,
14:11but novel nectar will never make it an eagle.
14:14The city sirens strum like strings and
14:16if I hummed to the rhythm of the din
14:18I could use it as a one drop beat,
14:20so sweet,
14:21like ripe plantains on a school day.
14:24Thank you. Thank
14:32you so much. OK,
14:36And I didn't tell
14:37you before, but we also have
14:39a tie for pros first place.
14:41And so the other person who won first
14:44place and the Program for Humanities
14:47and Medicine prize is Kelly Dunn.
14:49Kelly, are you here? OK.
14:52And Kelly's piece is called Hunger
14:54and Kelly is a Yale Physician
14:57Associate Program student,
14:59class of 2025. Congratulations.
15:03It was a very long. Oh, I'm so sorry.
15:05It was actually a very long piece.
15:06So this is a small excerpt from it.
15:09It's a little dark. So sorry.
15:12OK. In my nursing class,
15:14I learned that when a person was
15:16about to die, the last thing to
15:17go was their sense of sound.
15:19I tried not to think too much about
15:21what my patients would hear when
15:22their time came the hush of spare
15:24hairs that grew between thighs,
15:25the popping of bones,
15:27the dull flood of breasts
15:28that hung like weighted socks.
15:31Of all these sounds, though,
15:32my favorite was Ching.
15:33Her name was a light chime,
15:34her shuffling gait,
15:35the shape of old homes on my street.
15:38Her skin was fragile, sinews,
15:40tender, like a baby birds.
15:42When we first met in the hall,
15:43Ching told me that she had
15:44not been fed that day,
15:45despite just having dinner
15:47and broken Chinese.
15:48I dutifully told her that I would
15:50bring hot tea and sandwiches,
15:51pudding and fruit cups.
15:53She was so small,
15:54and it hurt to imagine her hungry.
15:55So even though I knew that
15:57Evening AIDS had fed her,
15:58I brought her more food anyway.
16:01Adjacent to her was the man in 2O2.
16:04He was so large,
16:05his legs red and angry,
16:07bloated from the blood and the
16:09lymph that fought their way
16:10through his many layers of fat.
16:12His skin swelled so much
16:13that it's split into lines,
16:14pus oozing out of every rift the day before.
16:17The doctor told him that if
16:18his behavior did not change,
16:19his leg would need to be amputated.
16:21To cope with the matter.
16:222O2 asked me for a chocolate flavored
16:24on sure and found an extra large
16:26pizza from Little Caesar's for delivery.
16:29He barely made his way 100
16:30feet down the hallway and down
16:32the elevator to pick it up.
16:33Later that night I was on my hands
16:35and knees cleaning his urine
16:36that was mixed with red sauce.
16:38On the bathroom floor,
16:40I felt there's steady decay,
16:42swelling cells, ballooning legs,
16:44encroaching fat that slowly
16:46cocooned hypertrophied heart,
16:47the great weight of it all urging
16:49the body to shush, to rest,
16:51to shut down and surrender.
16:53Or if they were lucky,
16:54the slow shrivel of their bodies as
16:56they fought A sickness that scraped
16:57every morsel of meat from their
16:59bones consumed until they became nothing.
17:15OK, our second place.
17:19So poetry also had a tie in second place.
17:23And Kelly Dunn also won that prize.
17:27And her poem is called On Chinese Medicine.
17:30And again, she's part of the Yale
17:31Physician Associate program. So Kelly,
17:38try again. This
17:40one. This one's better.
17:41It's cheerier, OK.
17:43It's called on Chinese medicine.
17:46My Mama. She gave me life,
17:48marked every fruit as hot or cold for fever,
17:51melon, green meat severed from
17:53netted Rhine for lethargy, mango,
17:56sweet juice between my fingers,
17:58balancing yin and Yang in the hum
18:01of the labor unit, I hold papaya
18:03to practice an endometrial biopsy.
18:05I take the thin tulle scraping
18:07pink meat from flesh,
18:09black beaded seeds spilling
18:11out this proxy for a womb.
18:13Meanwhile,
18:14Novocaine is injected between thighs.
18:16Meanwhile,
18:17bellies smell swell like spring fruit,
18:20while I try to remember if
18:21the papaya is hot or cold.
18:34And Kelly will be back one more time.
18:37Seriously.
18:40OK, the next person I'm going to invite
18:43up also won two prizes.
18:45And this is Hannah Gonima who
18:48won second place and 3rd place
18:50in prose and she is Yale School
18:54of Medicine class of 2031.
18:59And the pieces as you see here,
19:00the 1st the 2nd place was called
19:02An Ode to the stars we find and
19:04a second is called Boy and Girl.
19:07And I believe you're going to just
19:08read Boy and Girl in full. Welcome.
19:30I don't love public speaking,
19:31but I did shorten the story so you
19:35don't have to suffer for too long.
19:38Boy and Girl, Let me tell you a story.
19:42Like so many other stories,
19:43It is one of a girl and a boy.
19:46The boy was an orphan who had
19:48lost his parents at the ripe
19:50dawning of his adolescence.
19:51A handsome boy, the youngest of four.
19:54His uncles called him Bello growing up,
19:56meaning beautiful.
19:58Never an emotional one,
20:00this boy, but rather steady,
20:02like calm and still waters the girl.
20:05She was quite the opposite,
20:07born to a loving mother and an angry father.
20:11In the wrestling ring,
20:12anger and love tore at the girl,
20:15each claiming them for her own,
20:17clawing their way through her being,
20:19begging to be her resting place.
20:21Much to the dismay of fate,
20:23anger won,
20:24as it usually does in its
20:27overcoming and vicious ways.
20:29But love snuck its way into some
20:31small crevice of the girl to come
20:33out every so often during rare
20:35moments when anger had grown weary,
20:37confusing the girl as to which was which.
20:40They both felt similar,
20:41the anger and the love,
20:43the girl would say.
20:44If the boy was clear skies,
20:46the girl was the Thunder that
20:48rumbled all through it.
20:50And while the boy had a limited
20:52Dictionary of words to describe
20:53the universe of his mind and heart,
20:55the girl lived in a flurry of letters,
20:58drawing upon them at the
20:59most critical moments,
21:01painting with them lamentations of
21:03her fury and pointing them like sharp
21:05knives that those surround her,
21:07leaving behind a trail of those
21:09who fell victim to her language.
21:12When I look in the mirror,
21:13the boy and girl rest on my face.
21:16The girl's fingers are like my own,
21:18and my hair is the spitting image
21:20of the loose ringlets which crowned
21:22the head of the boy's mother.
21:24From the boy,
21:25my legs are joined in the center by
21:27aching joints that crack at their own accord.
21:30From the girl I was handed down
21:32a crippling web of anxiousness,
21:34manifesting and piercing pain
21:36that shreds my stomach.
21:38It was on a trip that this
21:40pain once struck me,
21:41and the boy marvelled that such
21:43a physiological pain exists.
21:45To think that one can be so anxious
21:47that their digestive organs declare
21:49their temporary retirement and gnaw
21:52their way through one's abdomen,
21:53urging for Air and Space,
21:55was not a process the boy was
21:58ever familiar with,
21:59despite the girl having suffered
22:00through it for decades.
22:02She had never told him.
22:04Perhaps he had never noticed.
22:06What forces of destiny, I wonder,
22:09brought the boy and girl together?
22:11I do not think it was the tender
22:13doing of Love's fingers.
22:15It certainly was not the master
22:16plan of bliss as it seemed to
22:19show no interest in their lives.
22:21Peace most definitely.
22:21Coward in the face of the boy and girl,
22:24deciding that some battles were
22:26simply not worth fighting.
22:28Rather the boy and girls story
22:30was taken over by confusion,
22:31instability and despair.
22:32Did they all sit at a table
22:35like the gods on Olympus,
22:37childishly bickering over who got
22:39to control the puppet strings
22:41of the boy and girls lives?
22:43Or was it always meant to be that way,
22:45meticulously weaved by Helen's
22:48threads into her tapestry?
22:50Whatever the case may be,
22:51such was the story of the boy and girl.
22:53Haphazardly written by the grotesque
22:56hands of fate's uglier qualities.
22:58They were thrown across these to
23:01distant lands and enveloped by the
23:03hands of illnesses which crept
23:04through their bodies and brains.
23:06With time,
23:07anger grew stronger within the girl,
23:09and love peaked out from its unsafe
23:12crevice less and less frequently.
23:14The boy somehow maintained his still waters,
23:17but something darker now loomed beneath.
23:20It came free of its leashes and
23:22revealed itself to the world
23:24on too few occasions to count,
23:25but the aftershocks of its appearance
23:28still appear as imprints in the soft earth.
23:30On the nights when it emerged,
23:32the creature scrambled to return to
23:34their homes, underground and in the skies,
23:37and in the crooks of trees and
23:39particles of dirt to huddle with
23:41their families until the storm pass.
23:43I can still remember the heavy gaze
23:45of the moon and her star children on
23:48me during these accidents of nature.
23:50Will it ever end?
23:51I asked her.
23:52It always does, child, she replied.
23:55You see,
23:56I have had vivid dreams where
23:58I watched the boys and girls,
23:59the boy and girls story,
24:00like in a movie.
24:02I sit still while I take in the
24:04scenes before me of the boy being
24:06born into the cradle of warmth and
24:08love and how they were treated.
24:10For some reason unbeknownst to me,
24:13I cry as I see him lose his parents,
24:15and my mind fills in the gaps of
24:17the grief he has never described,
24:19but which I can sense acutely
24:22in the laden silences.
24:23I watch as the girl grows,
24:25brought into the world a
24:27malleable clump of breath and air,
24:29only to be hardened by the unforgiving
24:32tools of a father's fists and fire.
24:34I watch as the film roll flies
24:37to the volumes of life.
24:39I watch as boy meets girl, Boy Marys,
24:42girl, boy comma girl becomes boy and girl.
24:46The film projector creaks and
24:48crackles like a ticking bomb.
24:50At this point I am screaming,
24:51yelling for the movie to stop.
24:53No more. I screech in anguish.
24:55Nothing good will come of it, I know.
24:57I crawl out of my seat and bang
25:00on the screen. No one responds.
25:02The film conductor overlooks from his
25:04auditorium and laughs at the creature,
25:07who still, after all this time,
25:08refuses to understand.
25:09My hands are bleeding now,
25:11my eyes are swelling,
25:13and all around me nature is rotting
25:15and decaying from the anguish,
25:16bleeding out from the pores of my flesh.
25:19But none the less, the movie continues.
25:22It does not care for these silly,
25:23silly sensitivities of nature.
25:25It must go on.
25:27Boy and girl birthed a girl.
25:29They name her henna, meaning happiness.
25:32I pause my tears to laugh.
25:34Misery never did stand a chance to irony.
25:38I turn away from the screen I can no
25:40longer watch in my scramble to rise.
25:43I knock over a vessel here as
25:45it's glass shatters and sends
25:47echoes through the empty theater.
25:49I look down at the broken
25:51shards in my reflection.
25:52There's only boy and girl in the look.
25:54They return.
25:55Thank you.
26:09OK, so we are going to hear is Melanie here,
26:14Melanie. OK, so we're going
26:17to go right to the art
26:21and what I'll do, what we'll do is
26:25just go through each of the art pieces
26:28and the 1st place is Lanique Huggins,
26:32Black Motherhood in Medicine and she
26:34is Yale School of Medicine 2027.
26:48Good evening everyone.
26:49Thanks for coming. As was said,
26:52my name is Lanique and I am a second year
26:55student in the Yale School of Medicine and
26:58this piece was
27:00inspired by something that I have thought
27:02much about over the past two years.
27:05I remember during one of the first
27:08weeks of Med school learning about
27:11a statistic that black mothers are
27:14the the maternal mentality rate
27:16among black mothers is 2.6 times as
27:18high as non Hispanic white mothers.
27:22And that statistic really struck
27:24A chord with me and several of my
27:26classmates and just made us really think.
27:30And then throughout that first semester,
27:32I had conversations,
27:33both formal and informal, conversations
27:36in classrooms, outside of
27:37classrooms with other students.
27:39In my year about building a
27:43family during a medical career,
27:45I heard people who were not
27:48black identifying across races,
27:50talking about how much more difficult it is
27:53to start a family as a woman in medicine.
27:56And then that for me,
27:58had me and some of my friends thinking
28:00about how much more difficult it will
28:02be to navigate that journey as somebody
28:04who is already a woman in medicine.
28:06And then on top of that,
28:07the odds stacked against,
28:08as you could say,
28:10as a black woman in medicine.
28:12And so I just wanted to create this
28:13piece if you kind of recognize
28:16the beauty of black motherhood,
28:17the struggle of it,
28:19but especially with in the lens
28:21of black mothers in medicine,
28:23which I think is something that is
28:26not as focused on it and is a very
28:29precious set of identities that I do
28:30hold. That's it.
28:40OK And our second prize winner
28:43for art category is Hung.
28:49There you are OK when OK and
28:54the piece is called Submerged.
28:56And Hung is a Yale School of
28:58Medicine student, class of 2025.
29:02Hi everyone, my name is Hong.
29:05I am a third year medical student.
29:07And thank you so much Doctor Reisman,
29:11Karen, and the judges for picking
29:13my piece and for allowing me to
29:15be here to talk about it today.
29:18So Submerged is actually a
29:22colorized version of a different
29:25painting of the same name
29:27of a triad called Submerge Emerged
29:29and Converge and Submerge is
29:33specifically about feeling overwhelmed.
29:38And this feeling of being overwhelmed is
29:43somewhat self-imposed, as you can see,
29:46because the subject is only half,
29:47half of her face is in the water,
29:50and this water
29:51is made of of her own hair.
29:54And in, you know, in the hair
29:57or the water you can see fish.
29:59And you might ask, what's
30:00up with the fish motif?
30:04And how I came up with this motif was
30:08actually I was studying for step one.
30:10And unfortunately I learned
30:12many things for the first time.
30:16You know, I was very fascinated
30:19by what I was learning and
30:21how the human body functions.
30:23But I also was terrified because
30:25why on earth am I learning so
30:27many things for the first time?
30:30So I wanted to find something that
30:32would capture fascination and fear.
30:35And you know, to me,
30:36what is more fascinating than
30:39and and fearsome than the ocean?
30:41And we're not going to talk about
30:43why koi fish is a freshwater
30:44fish and not saltwater, but
30:49and also shout out to my partner Eric,
30:51who introduced me to Radiohead.
30:53One of their one of their song that is one
30:55of my favorite is called We're Fishes.
30:57And this song captures
30:58perfectly what I bring.
31:01What I want to convey through
31:03this painting is a feeling of,
31:05you know, a little somber,
31:07a little scary and but ultimately
31:12more reflective and contemplative.
31:15So thank you so much for having me.
31:17And thank you,
31:25thank you, Hung.
31:26OK, the 3rd place, Art, we have a tie.
31:29And I will first invite
31:32Matthew Anderson to come up.
31:34And Matthew actually has two
31:37pieces in the art.
31:38One is third place and one is an
31:40honorable mention And he will tell you
31:42about eye contact and stress fracture.
31:44And he is class of medicine at Yale
31:47School of Medicine class of 2026.
31:51And no,
31:53no, no, come on up.
31:55So you can just advance this.
31:58OK, so just talk about both. Yeah.
32:02Hi, I'm Matt.
32:05So the two submissions I have
32:08here are photos from my travels.
32:11I think photography for me has been a
32:14means of capturing moments or pushing
32:17me to interpret my surroundings.
32:19And so these are two moments
32:21that I found myself in.
32:23And to relate this to our theme of
32:27the night humanities in medicine.
32:30I think Med school has been this
32:32wonderful experience of learning
32:34about how all of these factors of
32:36Physiology and exposures and environment
32:38relate to our health as humans.
32:41And sometimes I can't help
32:43think how those same principles,
32:45how the same principles also relate to other,
32:49you know, other things that
32:50we see in our environment,
32:52namely organisms and our environment.
32:54And so these two pieces perhaps relate to,
32:57you know, how does,
32:59how does humanity affect the
33:00things around us both, you know,
33:03societies around us as well as organisms.
33:05And you know what happens when we're
33:07there versus when we're not there.
33:09And so with that,
33:10I'll go ahead and read the
33:11blurb that I I wrote for this.
33:12This is called eye contact and this is a
33:15photo of my partner taken in Indonesia,
33:17Bali, Indonesia,
33:18which is a a Hindu island during
33:21the celebration of Gulangan,
33:24which is a this a celebration of the
33:28spirits of ancestors coming to the community.
33:31And so we were visiting a temple,
33:33and this temple is the most
33:35notable on the island.
33:36And a lot of a lot of local
33:38people were there to celebrate.
33:41And I was, you know,
33:43honored to be able to be
33:45in there in that moment.
33:47So a woman clothed in batik silently
33:49watches large koi in a Balanese temple pool.
33:53They have made their home in holy
33:55spring water and find their food
33:57from the crumbs of thousands of
33:58local visitors enclosed by 4 walls.
34:00The fish trace lazy circles
34:02beneath the water's surface,
34:03appearing as bright droplets
34:05rolling across Moss floor as
34:07if aware of watchful eyes.
34:09A single koi peers out of the water
34:11to briefly consider his viewer in
34:12the outside world before returning
34:14to his circular choreography
34:15and thoughts of the next meal.
34:22This next photo is taken in the
34:24Rocky Mountain National Parks,
34:26specifically Bear Creek Lake trails,
34:28which are very popular in the summer but
34:30during the winter are not as desirable.
34:32And so as you can see,
34:34it's kind of a barren,
34:36frozen lake devoid of people.
34:39But I found this very peaceful beauty in it,
34:42and I called it stress fracture.
34:44So in the deep cold of winter,
34:47Moraine lakes in the American
34:49Rockies harden into windswept basins.
34:51Ice becomes a carapace of frozen
34:53ripples and entrapped bubbles that
34:55protect a freshwater ecosystem below.
34:57As fluid drains throughout the season,
34:59water levels lower and the formidable
35:01shield becomes a brittle shell.
35:03Slow growing fractures arc across the
35:06lake as the remaining water and its
35:09contents are crushed between the weight
35:11of tons of ice and unmovable stone.
35:14That's it.
35:25The 3rd place other person who tied
35:27for third place is Stellen Lee,
35:31who is here. Yeah, and Stalin's
35:33piece is called Opera for Longevity,
35:35The harmony of Art, Tech and Health.
35:37And Stalin is a Yale School
35:39Public Health Student 2024.
35:51OK, hello everyone. My name
35:52is Stanley Lee.
35:54I am master of public health student.
35:56I started as a professional opera
35:59singer and now I'm passionate
36:01about how music and tech and
36:04this transformer health outcome.
36:06I use musical therapy and
36:10advanced tech to explore new medical pathway.
36:15So this journey,
36:17deeply inspired my grandfather's
36:18struggle with Parkinson's disease,
36:21led me to create this piece,
36:23which I'm thrilled to share with you today.
36:25This project blends my background
36:28on the upper stage with my
36:30current work in health technology.
36:32So it started to from those
36:36moments trying to connect with my
36:38grandfather as his memory faded.
36:40And those experiences drive me to
36:42find new way to care through
36:44technology and arts. So this
36:47award strengthened my belief
36:49in combining difference fields.
36:50I shows, it shows how art
36:53and tech and come together,
36:55changing perspective and improving health.
36:59So my grandfather's condition pushes
37:01me to merge the emotional depth of
37:04music with the precision of art,
37:06reaching out those isolated
37:10by illness. And I will keep
37:12pushing this boundaries of what
37:13art and tech can do in healthcare.
37:16So together, I hope
37:18we can create a future where they not only
37:21need but work together to foster
37:24innovation health solution.
37:26Thank you so much.
37:39Is Winston here? OK, so Winston Trope is
37:44Yale School of Medicine, class of 2026,
37:47and was awarded an honorable mention
37:49for his piece called Precision.
38:01Good evening everyone.
38:02So my interest in photography began
38:04during my semester abroad in Japan.
38:06In college, I pushed myself to really
38:09capture the culture I observed and I
38:12began to appreciate and enjoy photography
38:14as an art form and artistic expression.
38:17Following college, I took a job as a
38:19research assistant in thoracic surgery,
38:20and I was fascinated by the moments
38:22of humanity and intimacy that I saw
38:24among the members of surgical teams.
38:26My team was kind enough to allow
38:28me to bring my camera into the
38:30OR over my years on the job.
38:31It's a challenging and fun environment
38:33to shoot in. There's fast movement,
38:35extreme light dynamics,
38:37and kind of odd angles. Dr.
38:40Ronald Salem, a surgical oncologist,
38:41was the first surgeon here at
38:43Yale who let me photograph his
38:45procedures as a medical student,
38:47and Nisha Washington is a scrub tech that
38:50has worked with Doctor Salem for many years.
38:53Their interactions are filled with a
38:55carrying warmth and practiced intuition,
38:57and it took me a few surgeries
38:59to learn their flow.
39:00But I was able to catch one of
39:03those moments of silent intuition.
39:05If you look at their eyes,
39:06each of them knows exactly where the
39:08other is and what the other is doing.
39:10There's complete trust.
39:12Moments like these are what made me
39:14begin shooting in the operating room.
39:15And I'm excited to, you know,
39:18keep practicing surgical photography
39:19and honing this art.
39:21But I'm grateful to Doctor Salem and
39:22Tanisha for giving me my start here at Yale.
39:24And from being willing to share
39:26their bond with you.
39:28Thank you for your consideration and for
39:29letting me participate in this contest.
39:41Zainab.
39:45OK, so another honorable mention
39:48award in art goes to Zainab. Tell me
39:53how to handle it. In and all of
39:56Yale School of Nursing 2024.
39:58And her piece is entitled Blood Cells. And
40:01she is holding it. I brought
40:03it in her little couch. It's
40:07very
40:10small. Clip. My blurb.
40:14Hi. Thank you so much for having me here.
40:16I'm very honored to be here with all
40:18of you amazing artists and writers.
40:21The blend between our humanities
40:22and medicine is something that's
40:24very special to me and is what
40:26inspired me to become a nurse,
40:27so I'm just very grateful
40:29that this program exists.
40:30I painted this piece during my
40:32first year of nursing school,
40:33which was one of the most difficult
40:35years of my life.
40:36I've been painting self-portrait
40:37since I was a teenager,
40:39and I always enjoy how each portrait
40:41represents a period of time in my life.
40:44To me, this portrait represents the beginning
40:46of an arduous but incredible journey to
40:49becoming a pediatric nurse practitioner.
40:51Thank you so much.
41:02And the final honorable mention is
41:06Jean Claudine Raimondi
41:08who is on Zoom hopefully
41:16and the piece is called Capatico
41:22and Jean Clauntin is a Yale
41:24School of Nursing student 2025.
41:26No, and it's not here or on
41:30Zoom and this is the piece.
41:33OK. So we will move
41:34back in that case to
41:41to we still have a few more
41:44poetry and prose winners. And
41:50I'm going to go to Morgan
41:56Morgan Brinker, who is an honorable
41:58mention Rush Lerner Prize and Prose
42:00and the piece is entitled The
42:02Observation of Something Pink and
42:04Morgan is Yale School of Medicine 2026.
42:19Hi everyone, and congratulations
42:20to all the other winners,
42:23The Observation of Something
42:25Pink. In medical school,
42:27one of the first things we are
42:28taught is the art of observation
42:30and introduction to the profession.
42:32Our first medical school course.
42:35We examined patents to deconstruct
42:37bias and participate in our first simulation,
42:39somehow picking up on the artificial
42:42cues of a mannequin observation.
42:44It is something that is impressed
42:46upon us early in our journey.
42:48Stuff into our formal wear,
42:50pulling anxiously at the top button
42:52of our shirt as we articulate why.
42:54Medicine to interviewers who jot
42:56down our observations and pray we
42:59impress them Enough observation.
43:01It was our first assignment,
43:03anatomy noted in common anatomical
43:05landmarks on our donors to ease us into an
43:08emotionally taxed and year long course.
43:10This is about recognizing our donors as
43:12individuals rather than cadavers solely
43:15meant for educational benefit observation. I
43:19remember our first anatomy practical
43:21like it was yesterday. Anxiety spiked
43:24in my veins, causing my hands
43:25to shake around my clipboard
43:27as I stepped to a table.
43:28Not surrounded by other
43:29students for my first question,
43:32I kept mentally repeating
43:33to myself. The thoracic and neck
43:35structures as I scanned the donor for
43:37the tag corresponded to my answer sheet.
43:40My eyes landed on pink toes.
43:43I paused in my search for the tag.
43:45The donor had bright
43:47pink toes that seemed out of place,
43:49surrounded by silver tables and
43:51students in muted scrub colors.
43:53I began to think more about
43:54the person in front of me.
43:55The exam faded into the background,
43:58fixating on her nails.
43:59I'm used to myself.
44:01Who painted them? A granddaughter
44:04eager to spend time with her grandmother.
44:06I could almost picture them giggling
44:09over anything, everything and
44:11nothing at the same time.
44:13Or did she go to a nail salon
44:14to have a relaxing experience?
44:16Unless she was ticklish
44:18then of course the nail salon
44:19is not an enjoyable place.
44:22Did she spend an ungodly
44:23time standing at the shelves
44:24filled with endless colors
44:26trying to find a perfect color?
44:28Why did she paint her nails?
44:30A spontaneous
44:30pick me up, a plan splurge
44:33before her last days on this earth?
44:35Something she wanted to do
44:36knowing that she and her family were
44:38making the ultimate sacrifice and donating
44:40her body to science and education.
44:44Even though we had previously engaged
44:46in conversations about this topic,
44:47the sheer significance of this
44:49donor's gift finally sunk in.
44:52This was a person who someone loved
44:54and continues to love and grieve.
44:56This was someone who worked through
44:59any feelings of apprehension regarding
45:01donating their body to science.
45:03This was someone who prepared
45:05their loved ones for possible
45:06feelings of not receiving closure
45:09somewhere else in the
45:10lab, Doctor Stewart's voice
45:11start to pull me back to reality
45:13and the Lumen Practical exam.
45:15I stared down at the donor,
45:17her pink toes winking up at me
45:18as if it didn't trigger my third
45:21existential crisis within a month
45:23of starting medical school. However,
45:25this existential crisis was warranted,
45:27as it served as a crucial reminder when
45:30we witnessed traumatic events in medicine.
45:32We are challenged physically,
45:34mentally, and emotionally.
45:36We walk a delicate line between
45:38temporarily pushing aside our emotions
45:40to process them later when appropriate,
45:42and maintaining our compassion for
45:44both our sakes and our patients.
45:47Like most things in medicine,
45:48we will continue learning how to
45:50cope with these complex sentiments
45:52for the rest of our careers.
45:54But our donors helped us to take
45:56our first steps in this process,
45:58teaching us that when we are
46:00faced with death,
46:01our vulnerability and compassion
46:03allow us to be our most human self.
46:06And as a gift from our donors that
46:07we are only beginning to recognize,
46:10honor and pay back. Thank you.
46:21Is Melanie here?
46:28No. OK, Laurel.
46:34OK, so Laurel K is won an honorable
46:37mention in the poetry category.
46:39Laurel is Yale School of Medicine,
46:41class of 2025, and her poem
46:43is entitled Midnight Garden.
46:47Hi, everyone. I hope
46:48you can hear me. I'm on the zoom.
46:51We can hear you. We
46:52cannot see you. OK.
46:57Oh, OK.
47:08All right,
47:10let's see if this works.
47:14OK.
47:17Can I just
47:17get one more confirmation that you guys can
47:19hear me? At least, If not see me.
47:24OK. I see myself now.
47:26There we go.
47:29All right. OK. Thank you for
47:30letting me join via Zoom.
47:31And it was so lovely listening.
47:33I was in transit for part of this,
47:34but it was so lovely listening to
47:37the other readers and seeing the art.
47:41Thanks, Vika. Yes, thank
47:46you. Midnight Garden.
47:47Confronted with the final decision
47:49of a front door, you make instead
47:51for the shadowed flower beds,
47:53ears still ringing of sirens
47:54and telemetry, and spent Ivs.
47:56But now it is only the crickets
47:58and your eyes adjust to the moon
48:00flowing into view over the ash trees,
48:03erasing all but the colours It
48:04cares for you to know today.
48:06Or perhaps it was yesterday.
48:08You pulled a bullet from
48:10between a man's shoulders,
48:11your own shoulders still tight with
48:13the raw breath of strong nerves.
48:15The Rosemary breathes too in the dark,
48:17but quietly you must strain to
48:19hear it's pine scented murmur,
48:21the secrets it trades with
48:23the crawling sugar snaps.
48:25The beetroot knows not of crush
48:26injuries and codes of friction on
48:28asphalt or friction on sternum.
48:30It knows instead the arc that Vega
48:33traces on the sky in the dizzy
48:35dance of bumblebees and Wasps.
48:37You are no attentive Angel
48:38at the head of Trauma One,
48:39but the spade that separates
48:41the mint from the dandelion.
48:43Your knees sink to the dirt and feel
48:45for the veiny limbs of cherry tomatoes,
48:47their hard bodies slick with dew.
48:50No need to administer antibiotics.
48:52Acetaminophenodemocene compost and coffee
48:54grounds will invigorate the cucumbers.
48:57You divide Ivy from okra with the same
49:01decisive precision that A10 blade
49:02divides the layers of skin and fascia,
49:05a procedure that worked exactly the
49:06way it was meant until it didn't.
49:08You had to tell a young man's mother,
49:10who screamed in a way that almost made sense,
49:13a rejection of air that the Lacinato
49:15kale now inhales and the scents
49:17remains only in the sugar snaps,
49:19reaching towards the moon as
49:21they would the sun.
49:23A thick metal scent rises
49:24as you pour on water,
49:25enough to wash these hands again,
49:28but not enough to drown the earthworms
49:30on their adamantine missions to
49:32consume everything that remains.
49:34This and that patch devoured and made new
49:48thank
49:53you. OK. And I believe unless Melanie or
49:57Jean Claudine have appeared, last call.
50:02OK, then I'm going to invite
50:03Kelly back up for a third time to
50:07read her Honorable mention prize,
50:10which is entitled On the First day
50:12of Anatomy Lab for another Anatomy.
50:16I'm so sorry. This is
50:17the last one, I promise.
50:21OK. On the first day of anatomy lab,
50:24it is September.
50:25My hair is damp from morning shower.
50:28The street is a lexicon of leaves,
50:30the air just beginning to turn cold.
50:33I learned all our donors
50:34are from Connecticut.
50:35I'm given their ages on a typed list,
50:37not 70s or senior, but 718889.
50:42The numbers are seemingly arbitrary,
50:44but I like the precision.
50:46It brings a real weight to the bodies.
50:48I will soon see the sum of
50:50every moments they breathe.
50:52The metal casing is hard to keep open.
50:55I press my knee into it to draw
50:56the locking mechanism into place.
50:58But when I'm done,
50:59I see that a thin brown line,
51:00no thicker than the width of my fingernail,
51:02has stained my pants.
51:03I spit on it and rub the fabric,
51:05but it stays.
51:07I unzip the white plastic,
51:09unwrap the canvas and tuck
51:10it behind my donor's legs,
51:12knowing I will make sure his
51:13toes are covered once more.
51:14At the end of class,
51:16we are told to just look today,
51:18to sketch and observe.
51:19Yet I can't help but touch.
51:22His skin is hard and cold and Gray,
51:25like the blocks of clay ceramacists use.
51:27His hands are bound postmortem,
51:29and you can see the impression
51:31of fingers left on his belly.
51:33It reminds me of the fossils
51:35I've seen in museums,
51:36of dinosaur shell eggs or ferns in tar,
51:39in the footprints in the Kao Desert
51:42preserved from when Mauna Loa erupted.
51:44A professor exclaims and tells me
51:46they're pitting indemnidus impressions,
51:48which can be noted at a given
51:50depth on a point scale.
51:51But I'm still thinking about Mauna Loa,
51:53the sprawling desert and the hot
51:55volcanic ash that swept across
51:57the whole island in one day,
51:58taking families but keeping a trail of
52:01their footprints perfectly preserved.
52:03I later learned the word is Ademitus,
52:05but for now I stroke his cheek and hold
52:07his hand, his fingertips stained yellow,
52:09and noticed how his nail
52:11beds are big like mine.
52:13We are encouraged to look at
52:14the donors on other tables.
52:16At table 36,
52:17there is an Asian man with speckled
52:18skin and skin tags like my dad,
52:20clear serum pulling around his
52:22eyes that shine like tears.
52:24I see Ivs and a central triple
52:26lumen line embedded in skin,
52:27vestigial structures,
52:28still trying to revive life in a dead body.
52:32The embalming process makes things concrete,
52:35lithified immortalizing wrinkles
52:36and folds of skin like non laminar
52:39strata and sedimentary rock.
52:41I'm with bodies that will
52:42soon join the earth again.
52:43Lost in geologic time.
52:45The morphologies are unfamiliar,
52:47Stomachs too full or too hollow,
52:49fat held and told to halt,
52:52contorted to form an assemblage of small
52:55knolls and topographical maps of places.
52:57I don't know.
52:59Class is soon over and I'm sitting
53:00in the shuttle on my way home,
53:02looking at the sketch of my donor,
53:04his large nostrils,
53:05barrel chest and hands with
53:07nail beds as large as mine.
53:09Wondering if you wore 1/4 zip sweater
53:11in September and if his partner
53:13ever reminded him to wear a hat
53:15before he left for work because
53:16it was cold outside. Thank you.
53:25Thank you everybody for coming.
53:27That's marks the end.
53:28We can do a group picture with
53:29people who are still here.
53:30I know some people had to leave, but
53:33any judges who are here also
53:35we would like to have you in the picture.